


Guardian

by somethinginbetween



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Guardian Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Heaven, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethinginbetween/pseuds/somethinginbetween
Summary: All of heaven stared down at him, "What kind of angel loves a human more than their duty?”Castiel had no answer for them.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is something I love about the idea of a guardian angel. Someone that watches over you even when nobody else is.

He was eight when he first saw him. Eight and crying.

His dad had the smell of alcohol on his breath and Dean hadn’t learned what that meant yet. Hadn’t understood.

His father was cursing at him and shouting at him but Dean wouldn’t get up, sobbing and stubbornly clutching on the curb. He didn’t want to leave the house with the red door and the sycamore tree. They’d stayed there for a whole year and he knew everyone on the street, even Ms. Jones who didn’t talk to anyone.

It was nice there and Dean had friends his own age and they let him play with all their cool toys and sometimes their parents let him stay for dinner. Even Sammy liked it there, even though he was a year too young for kindergarten. He was doing well, Ms. Shelly said so at least.

Dean even had his own room and he’d decorated it with the dinosaur stickers that he’d gotten for Valentine’s day. 

He didn’t want to leave and go on the road to a new place every night. The motels were smelly and he didn’t want to start a new school with all those blank faces and new people.

But his father kept dragging him toward the car, where everything was packed tight to the ceiling but Dean kept running back, clutching at the house, the railing, even the grass because he wanted to stay.

“I have had enough of this.” His father’s voice came from above him and his hand pulled back and all of a sudden Dean was lying on the ground with a stinging cheek.

He hit me, he realized, too surprised to even react.

His father had never hit him before.

And he was going to do it again, Dean realized, watching the hand drawing back again in slow motion. At least then he’d had the sense to wince. 

But just as the hand was moving downward, it stopped.

Dean looked up. A man in a trenchcoat was standing behind his father, holding his arm.

“You should be more careful.” He said, in a gravily, clipped tone.

He released John’s hand and walked away. 

It was like the spell had been broken. John had picked up his unresisting form and shoved him into the car.

Dean crawled to the backseat, silent tears running down his face as he watched the house with the red door disappear in the distance. 

-

The next time he’d seen the trenchcoat man he’d been eleven.

He’d been shivering on the curb of the grocery store, too sad to care that people were looking at him weird. 

It was Christmas Eve and tomorrow was Christmas and that was a special day. Everyone said so, even if they didn’t believe in all that Christianity stuff. 

People decorated their houses and gave each other presents and sat down to big family meals.

He thought despairingly of his father at home, drooling on the floor.

But Sammy was so excited, babbling about how his friend Hans wanted a skateboard and Julia was getting the new xbox for Christmas.

He hadn’t realized it yet. That they were different. Last year, John had managed to scrape something together but he’d been getting worse. The bottles were piling up and too often Dean found that he was the one putting Sam to bed while his father was out drinking or gambling or whatever he did in those late nights.

It was fine, usually. John always gave him money for food and Sam was a good kid. And Dean had learned about food stamps which he could rely on for some extra meals.

But now it was Christmas Eve.

Dean looked despairingly at his grocery bag. Mini wheats, some lettuce, and a loaf of bread. He couldn’t make lunch with this, let alone a family dinner. 

The stamps didn’t renew till next month and he hadn’t rationed them properly. That or John’s payments had been getting smaller and smaller as he’d been drinking more and more.  
Probably the latter, Dean thought bitterly.

The food stamps didn’t cover toys either. 

The change he’d scrounged from John’s pockets had amounted to less than nothing. He’d managed to buy a kit kat and a bouncy ball.

His belly twisted with the idea of seeing Sammy rushing out of bed to see nothing.

He grit his teeth. This was their life. The sooner Sam could grasp that, the easier it would go for him in the future.

He stood up and walked back to the shotty apartment they were calling home for now. It was cold and Dean wrapped his arms around himself.

If John had asked Dean - which he never did - they would have headed down South for the winter. But instead they were freezing in Pennsylvania looking for vampires.

He waited at the intersection. The walk sign wouldn’t change even though there were no cars. He hit the button again. 

“This is for you.” That strange, gravely voice said behind him.

Dean turned around. The trenchcoat man was there. In front of him was a grocery cart, piled high with books, clothes, and food.

Dean stared at it, “Why?”

He turned to look at the man but he was walking away.

“Thank you.” He called out.

But the man had already turned the corner and gone.

In the cart he found brand new winter coats, not like the ones in the Goodwill they usually wore. There were nerf guns and books, puzzles and games. There was ham and chicken, potatoes and carrots and celery. Flour, sugar, eggs, an entire grocery store basically.

Dean stared down and imagined all the meals he could make.

There was even wrapping paper.

And the next day when Sammy jumped out of bed Dean had a breakfast of pancakes and a tableful of Christmas presents.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he heard Sam’s shrieks of delight from the other room.  
-

When he was sixteen he saw him again.

They moved around too much for him to hold a real job. Dean did what odd jobs he could but nobody really wanted to hire a sixteen year old misfit anyway. He wasn’t good enough yet to hustle at pool either. But there were other ways to make money. Less honorable, for sure, but the world’s oldest profession had worked for so many, why not him?

He didn’t know if Sammy knew. His little brother probably knew something was up but was too afraid to ask. That was good. Dean wouldn't know how to answer anyway.

John had taken him to a bar and Dean had been proud that his father thought he was mature enough to go. The bartender knew his father and didn’t ask any questions, instead serving Dean a whiskey. He’d winced drinking it and John and his hunter friends had laughed at him. Color rose to his cheeks and he forced another gulp, not allowing his face to move. He’d spent the night trying to fit in with the other hunters, joking and laughing even if their jokes weren’t really that funny.

But at the end of the night one of his father’s friends had squeezed his thigh and Dean jerked away in disgust, “What are you doing?”

The man put his hands up, “I was just joking.”

Dean left after that.

The money had been drying up for a while but soon after that day John had traded their food stamps for whiskey. Sam had gone to sleep crying from hunger and Dean grit his teeth and walked back to the bar. The man from before was in the same seat, drinking the same liquor.

Dean had sidled up next to him, “Still trying to joke around?”

The man gave him an appreciative grin, “Always.”

“A thousand dollars.”

The grin had disappeared, “Five hundred.”

“Seven hundred.”

“Five hundred or nothing.”

Dean swallowed, “Done.”

It was a job he could do anywhere. No matter what shotty town, what crappy city they were in, there were always bars and lonely people. 

He made enough to put food on the table and clothes on their back and that’s all he needed really.

But he was careful never to let his father know he had any money and Sammy soon picked up on that as well without Dean even having to tell him. He was just that bright. 

This was it for him, he knew. Hunting and whoring. But Sammy was smart, he knew. Sammy could do something with his life, get a job, a career, a home even.

So it was worth it.

Most of his clients were just lonely people. People that needed to be appreciated and admired. Some were just looking for a lay. A few were cruel, but Dean grew up with John and he knew how to fight. If they tried anything Dean made them regret it.

But one night he went home with another hunter. Dean had never met him before. He said he was new to the profession.

This man had a thing for noise and Dean had spent the better part of an hour loudly faking a pleasure he didn’t feel.

But when he asked for payment, the man’s face twisted. Dean had fought ghouls, vampires, werewolves but in that moment he’d never seen anything so full of hate. The man’s right fist rose up but Dean was ready and dodged it, countering with a jab.

But the man saw that coming as well and met his fist.

And they were fighting.

He must have been classically trained, Dean realized as he took a particularly brutal hit to the cheek.

The man used his strength to overpower him and all of a sudden Dean realized that he was losing this fight. The fear shot through him because he didn’t know this person. He could easily be dead in a ditch tomorrow.

He made an effort to run to the door but the man chased him. He only managed to get the door open before he was pinned to the ground. And then he was being punched and it wasn’t stopping and everything was pain.

So this was it, he realized. This was how he was going to die. Not saving people or rescuing the innocent. Beaten to a pulp in a seedy motel.

The man threw him out onto the parking lot and his head cracked against the asphalt. The sounds of the city played faintly in the background. Cry for help, he told himself. Don't just lie there. Do something. 'You think someone is going to help you?' His father’s voice echo'd to him, 'There isn’t a person in this world who could help you right now.'

The punches kept raining down.

And then they stopped.

He was vaguely aware of the sounds of fighting, a heavy, wet thud. Mostly he was aware of the pain.

Dean curled up on himself. Just die, he told himself. It would be easy. Sammy was almost thirteen and smart as a whip, he could take care of himself. Maybe he’d even do better without Dean.

A figure was walking over to him and Dean prepared himself for death. But in an instant the pain was gone and his face didn’t feel like meat anymore, but an actual face. His vision came into focus and the man was standing there, the one in the trenchcoat from before. Dean noticed how blue his eyes were.

The man tucked a wad of bloody cash into Dean’s hands, “Go.” He said.

And then he vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have heard that in Jewish lore angels are jealous of humans for our ability to create and feel.

“You are unassigned from Dean Winchester.” Raphael stood over him with the other archangels. The other ranks of angels stood to the side, watching silently. 

Castiel took the order in stunned silence. Unassigned? Guardian angels were for life.

“Who is going to watch over him?”

“That is none of your concern!”

“Have I been unsatisfactory?”

“Castiel! What have we told you about asking questions? You are unassigned. That is all you need to know. Remove him from your duties. You are dismissed.”

The panel moved on from him, onto other greater matters and the herald called another angel to step forward. 

Castiel shuffled away, forgotten. How could he be unassigned? He’d been watching over Dean since he was just a tiny babe in Mary's arms. 

But he’d been given an order. By an archangel no less, eighteen ranks ahead of him. It was his duty to obey.

So he did. Poorly.

He tried not to, but it had become a habit to follow along with Dean’s life. Every so often, despite himself, Castiel would look down and check in.

Dean had just turned twenty two and was sending Sam off to college. Dean helped him move into his dorm, before driving off to go look at a missing person’s case in Utah. But alone in the bathroom, Dean began to cry. Castiel listened in and felt his regret. That he’d never finished high school, that he’d never be more than a hunter, that his father hadn’t bothered to come.

He watched Dean get his GED, studying late into the night, cursing as he slammed his head into the book, sure he’d never pass. His flight or fight response kicking in while taking the test but forcing himself still. His joy on viewing the scores. He'd passed. Of course he’d pass.

He watched Dean slip out the back of the Motel after a hunt, leave his drunk father, and steal the Impala as he went.  
As he drove away he gave a loud whoop and Cas smiled.

-

“I reviewed your transmissions.” Anna was peering at him over the table. She was an evaluation angel, seven ranks below him.

Cas froze. This was bad.

“Nineteen check-ins to Dean Winchester after your unassignment.”

He stared up at her, wordless.

“Are you stupid Castiel? And after all those illegal visits that I covered up for you? Do you know what they could do to you?”

“I am aware.”  
]  
“You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. Don’t throw it all away for some human.”

“Are you going to report?”

She sighed, shuffling the papers around, “I should. I know I should. But...but…”

“But?” He ventured.

“But, even though I rank far below you, you're still my friend as well as my brother andI don’t want to do all the paperwork anyway.”

“Thank you Anna.”

“You’re welcome. This is the last time, I mean it Castiel. I’m in line for a promotion and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Understood.” He gave a nod.

“You’re good to go. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Are we still on for tracking down that demon next year?”

“Of course.”

He walked out but her voice called out to him, “Remember Cas. You’re an angel. Do your duty.”

And so he stopped. No more check ins, no watching. And of course he wanted to. Really wanted to. It was like… the humans would say it was an itch that he couldn’t scratch.

Instead he continued with his daily duties. It was boring work, guarding the buildings of heaven and charting the movements of his brothers and sisters. And then filling out the appropriate paperwork accompanying those acts. He wanted to be assigned another human, Dean was his first in a while. He remembered a time when it was more common, but as the memory of God faded and the archangels took over it had become increasingly more rare. 

And then one day, clear as a bell, a jolt of something so sharp and loud that he didn’t know where he started and Dean ended.

The prayer rang loud in his ear, “Hey Trenchcoat. I think I’ll need a miracle to get me out of this one.”

He looked down and Dean was tied to a support beam and a demon was advancing on him with a blade that emanated power.

He abandoned his post and flew down to Earth., blasting the she-demon backward, away from his human. She flew against the wall of the shack, her eyes flashing an unblemished white.

How did his human get mixed up with Lilith? Even angels couldn’t take down a demon that powerful. 

He scrambled to untie the bonds but they were demon chains, forged in hell. She stood up nonchalantly and brushed herself off.

As he fumbled with them, knowing he wouldn't be able to break them, she was smiling, advancing toward them like she had all the time in the world, “Silly little angel. You thought you could save him?”

Cas looked down at Dean’s scared green eyes and down at the ties that he couldn’t break and she raise her blade high and he knew that Dean was about to die. He screamed.

And instantly they were on a street somewhere, away from the ramshackle basement.

Dean was panting, hands on his knees, “Who...who are you?”

Castiel didn’t understand what had just happened. Or what was happening to him. His chest was constricting, his vessel’s breath coming in short pants. He felt alert and energized but it was not a good feeling. His hands were shaking and he realized what was happening. He was feeling.

He turned to Dean, “I am afraid.”

Saying the words made it real, and that made him even more scared. Angels weren’t supposed to feel.

And he wasn’t supposed to be here.

This wasn’t some innocuous observing or a small gesture. No, he’d just saved Dean’s life. Someone was going to notice.

He instantly flew back to his duties. What had that power been? How had he transported a human tied in demon rope?

He continued with his duties, filling out his paperwork twice as fast as usual. Maybe no one would notice, he told himself. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

He received a summons a day later.

“You saved Dean Winchester’s life.” The accusing voice said down to him.

All four archangels had assembled. The entire cohort stood in their ranks focused on him.

He bowed his head. There was no point in denying it, “He prayed to me.”

“He prayed to you, and you… responded?” Michael sounded equal parts livid and confused, “Need I remind you that you were unassigned to him years ago.”

Castiel had no response for that.

“You have ruined years of planning. Dean Winchester was supposed to perish at the hands of Lilith and you prevented that.”

“I thought Dean was supposed to be protected.”

“Protected?” Raphael scoffed, “You think we assign angels to protect mere humans? To make them happy?”

The angels all laughed but Castiel did not see the humor.

“No.” Raphael recovered and he was terrifying, “No Castiel. You were supposed to save Dean so he could perish at the hands of Lilith.”

“We had it all planned out.” Michael said, “And you neglected your duty!”

Uriel spoke, “With Dean missing, Sam would have gone after Lilith, the only one with the power to kill her.” He walked around the platform, his voice rising to reach even the custodial staff in the back, “With the death of Lilith, Lucifer would have had no choice but to unleash hell.” His voice rose, “And we would meet him in battle. The war could begin, the final war that was prophesied by the great prophet Abraham.” He shook his fist, his voice booming through the chamber, “And we would triumph over the world, reducing hell to ashes and bringing eternal peace onto the world.”

And all of a sudden the rows of angels were stomping and cheering, thirsting for the blood of demons. 

And then Michael pointed toward him, “This is what he has taken away from you!”

And angels that Castiel had known for a millennium, his brothers and sisters, his friends and some he’d never even met before were screaming at him, hollering for his blood.

He felt he should be terrified and humiliated. But their need for him to feel shamed had soaked all of that up. It was not a mistake to save Dean Winchester's life. He was a human worth saving. In rebellion, he stood and felt distinctly unaffected and unashamed as hoards of angels called for his demise.

“We will fight in the homeland, as God wanted us too. As he foretold, we will make Earth a paradise!” Gabriel’s voice boomed over them.

The din went on and on but eventually quieted as Gabriel put his hands up.

But instead of waiting for him to speak, Castiel spoke first, “But what about the humans?”

Raphael walked up to him and the move was sudden and brutal he as struck him across the face, “You do not ask the questions here.”

The force of the blow made him fall to his knees.

“Get up Castiel.” Gabriel said.

Dean had been hit multiple times and gotten up, Castiel could do it too. He stood up. The chamber had grown silent, not one of his siblings speaking for him.

Uriel spoke, “We had thought this as just a mistake, a weakness on your part. But it appears that you yourself are flawed. What kind of angel loves humans more than their duty?”

Castiel had no answer for him.

“You were to be stripped of your rank and reduced to custodial staff but I see now that that would be too generous.” Gabriel said, “I can only see one solution for a defect such as this.”

Raphael hefted open the floor and an opening appeared, dim compared to the light of heaven. The sounds of humanity came through, screams, laughs, tears, joy. Prayers for mercy and vengeance both.

“You, Castiel, have been sentenced to fall from grace. May God have mercy on your soul.”

Two of his fellow guards grabbed him by the arms and dragged him forward and he let them. 

“Any last words?” Uriel called out to him.

He stood there, at the brink of heaven’s door. He stood and looked at his siblings all silent, all fearful fascination and the only words he could think of were, “You are wrong. This is not what God wants.”

He shook the guards off of him and he jumped forward, falling falling falling toward the one human he knew. He fell toward Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “No. No.” Castiel shook his head, “You cannot expel me because I QUIT~!” He jumps out the window, bye motherfuckers.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen an episode of Supernatural in seven years but I cried writing this so :/


End file.
